


union in fire and blood

by axumun



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Burnish Galo Thymos, M/M, Pre-Apocalypse, mostly a reimagined cave scene, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axumun/pseuds/axumun
Summary: "Whatdoyou want, Thymos?"He wants to wake up again, start this day over and pin Kray's medal to his chest. He wants to get pizza with his friends and make everyone around him feel safe. He wants to go back to thinking everything he's done, everything he's been taught to believe is right.But he can't. He meets Lio's eyes."I want to know the truth."
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	union in fire and blood

The blood in Galo's veins feels colder than the ice under his feet. His reflection is warped, unsettling his stomach. Steam rises from where his feet skate across the ice. He knows how deep it goes, though. He's not particularly worried.  
  
He pulls out his phone. Four missed calls, six texts. Mostly Aina, one each from Remi and Ignis. There's a flood of question marks on the screen, but he can't bring himself to open any of the messages. He'd only put them in danger if he reached out.  
  
Is he dangerous? He doesn't feel like it. Actually, he mostly feels hungry. He didn't know that was part of the bargain. How many of his other spoonfed perceptions about the Burnish are bullshit?  
  
A purplish flame flickers across the treeline: a single dark figure, then a few more. A hot knife twists in Galo's gut. Is it really the Mad Burnish, broken out of prison? Who else would be bounding across the desert like that?  
  
Only yesterday, they were his enemies; today, he finds he might have more in common with him than he can bear to swallow.  
  
As the flames die, Galo stares out at the horizon beyond them, briefly alight with the setting of the sun. He's never really had to think about how isolated Promepolis is until now, constructed to keep people in (normal, _non-combusting_ people), and leave everyone else to die. The door of the only life he's ever known is closed behind him. But where does he go now?  
  
He thinks about yesterday, about Lio. _The flames are a part of us. We have to burn to live._ He aligns with the silence of the lake. Maybe he'd been right, even though Galo didn't understand at the time. Still doesn't, fully.  
  
He doesn't regret stopping Lio and his goons; he won't ever apologize for putting out a fire. But maybe he could have listened harder. Maybe someone, _anyone_ could listen.  
  
Maybe they can both understand.  
  
He kicks up the ignition on his bike, and follows the flicker.  
  
▼◊▼◊▼◊▼  
  
_A demonstrative flame flares to life in Galo's palm: "I'm scared, Gov. I didn't think this would happen to me. What do I do?'_ _  
_ _  
_ _Kray Foresight said nothing. His face was perfectly composed, arms crossed under his desk. Then two Freeze Force deputies gripped him hard by the arms._ _  
_ _  
_ _"Gov!" he cried, but the pieces were already clicking. Kray wasn't going to help him; Kray was_ arresting _him._ _  
_ _  
_ _By some miracle, he'd struggled away before his wrists could be bound in ice, and he_ ran _until the shouts behind him became a blur, until tears stung his eyes. He snuck into an elevator, commanding it as far down as possible, running blind when the door opened on the third floor. His lungs burned as he hurried down the stairwell, flames prickling under his skin._ No, no no. 

_He just wanted to talk._ _  
_ _  
_ _The second miracle of the day was finding an unmanned window on the second floor, overlooking civilian parking. Jumping wasn't one of his better ideas (as if he's never broken a window and jumped out of a second story before) but the flames had protected him, propelling against the pavement before he could hit it, slowing his fall._

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼  
  
Galo parks outside of the cave entrance, listening inside. Maybe he's wrong - maybe there's no one here, and this is his home now. He's never been much good on his own.

Maybe he'll wake up.

He spares one last glance at his bike, where the gaen gear rests in its holster. He decides against it and turns away.

He wanders in the waning natural light, sensing no signs of life. Would he be killed on the spot if Lio found him? (If he doesn't kill without reason, would this intrusion be reason enough?) Why would he listen to anything Galo has to say? This may be the worst idea he's ever had, in a history of bad ones.

Footsteps reach his ears, along with hushed murmurs, the crackling of a fire. The sound alone gives him chills; he's still unsure how people can feel comforted sitting beside a roaring flame. Maybe he's due to learn.

He steps into the mouth of the occupied chamber, eyes immediately falling on him - some curious, some terrified. No sign of Lio.

There's a _swoosh_ behind him. A sharp pain blooms in the back of his neck, and darkness swallows him.

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

Talking, shuffling, flickering light. Darkness again, half-dreams of ice in his lungs. The light returns but it makes his head ache.

He moves a hand to drag it down his face. But it doesn't budge.

Awareness of his restraints lights up awareness of everything else; he's in more or less the same spot, sitting against the cave wall. His wrists are bound in rope behind his back, ankles tied together in front of him. 

Most of the people here are sitting around the fire, erected in the middle of the chamber like a statue of a deity. A few are standing, distributing boxes and bags from a big burlap sack, including Lio. His silhouette is unmistakable, the reflection of the flames dancing across his clothes. Galo can't see his face. 

He's not paying Galo any mind at all.

Galo struggles weakly - not to break free, just to create some movement. 

It's not enough.

"Hey," he croaks. He's thirsty now, too, his throat dry and burning. "Hey!"

It's as if he's not there at all.

"Lio!" Galo cries, wriggling around like a fly in a spiderweb. "I need to talk to you!"

Finally, Lio spares him an annoyed glance. He doesn't approach right away; Galo realizes as his haze continues to clear that he's distributing food, children first. He blinks, feeling his eyes finally focus.

Lio is by his side in two quick, silent strides. He's bent over Galo, menacing. Even though Galo's sitting, Lio's not as tall as he remembers. His memory is admittedly fuzzy, though.

"You're being very rude," Lio says, voice pitched so only Galo can hear. "Let us eat. Then I _might_ consider hearing you out."

Lio's words have bite, but he's still kinder than Galo expects, than he thinks he deserves. His fragile image of Lio is shattering, just another broken mirror to add to his worldview. The man that he called _terrorist trash_ yesterday is harbouring refugees, feeding their children, bandaging their wounds. 

Galo wonders if the part of Lio that he still despises - the part that commits arson with abandon and looks down at him self-assured from a throne of crystallized fire - can be surgically separated from the kinder aspects. Looking back on what Lio said, he worries that the answer is no.

He tests the ropes; a tight hold, but not a cruel one. His circulation isn't cut off or anything. Lio is certainly capable of much, much worse.

Lio is the last to grab something for himself from the bag, the last to sit by the fire. Galo tries not to watch Lio eat, because that's weird, even now. Yet when Galo steals a glimpse, Lio is regal even in his repose, a captivating purple glow reflecting in his irises. 

Is Lio testing his mettle? Is this a challenge meant to break him, make him lash out so Lio has a good excuse to put him down? 

"It's not going to work," Galo finds himself saying aloud. But he's slipping away again, endorphins crashing, hunger slowing down his brain.

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

Galo's smartest in his dreams.

 _Lio has no reason to think you're Burnish,_ his dream tells him. _You could burn right through these ropes._

 _But then what?_ he demands of...himself. _There's a reason he leads the Burnish. Where else do they have to go?_

Does it make him smart or dumb, that he can't counter his own argument?

 _Where else do_ I _have to go…?_

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

Galo awakens to a leather-clad finger holding his chin up. Lio's soft, curious gaze turns to stone when Galo meets it. Interesting.

"I thought you were dead." Lio twists the cap off of a water bottle and pushes it to Galo's mouth, tilting his head back.

"You're going to tell me why you're here," he continues as Galo drinks.

Galo only chokes a little, sputtering a bit when Lio pulls away. Has water always tasted this good?

The words in his head sound easy to say. But they're not quite what comes out: "I don't want to hurt you."

"What _do_ you want, Thymos?"

He wants to wake up again, start this day over and pin Kray's medal to his chest. He wants to get pizza with his friends and make everyone around him feel safe. He wants to go back to thinking everything he's done, everything he's been taught to believe is _right_.

But he can't. He meets Lio's eyes.

"I want to know the truth."

Lio scoffs. "You can go wherever you want to, let yourself believe you're the hero. Yet you came all the way out here, just to pester me. In the middle of a meal."

"Lio…"

"You don't even have your gun. I patted you down. How dense can you _be_?"

"Lio." Galo struggles again, shifting enough so Lio can see his bound hands. He blinks away the image of Lio steeling himself, as if preparing for combat. He's so over fight or flight today.

Galo outstretches a single finger, so as not to burn the rope, manifesting a pink candlelight-sized flame at the end. It threatens to open a dangerous floodgate inside of him. 

"See?" Galo appeals. He lets the flame go out. "I can't go back."

Lio's expression turns tender. But before he can speak, someone by the fire calls for him. Someone else is coughing gravely.

"Give me a minute," Lio says, stricken. Galo can't hear what anyone is saying, but he watches everyone gather around a woman lying on the ground, attention turned to her rather than the fire.

Lio is crouching over her, fretting as she continues to cough.

He calls out to Lio again, disobediently demanding more of his time. He's part of a rescue squad, he pleads; he has first-aid equipment.

With a resignation he doesn't seem to like allowing Galo to see, Lio undoes the ropes.

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

The woman's name is Thyma, Galo learns, once she's stable. Lio doesn't seem to have faith that she's out of the woods, but he _does_ flash a grateful grin at Galo once she can sit up on her own. Galo holds on to that sight, tucks it away for when he needs something to make him feel like this could all be worth it.

Galo earns a space around the fire after that; the Burnish are still wary of him, but Lio's welcome seems to dissipate most of their anxiety. The children warm up to him first, which Galo's used to. Even out here, knowing only _this_ life, they act just like the kids back home. It makes Galo want to cry again, the way a man does when the world becomes too heavy.  
  
Lio perches beside him. "The truck will be here soon. Looks like you're coming with us."  
  
Galo nods. He's just happy to have people to protect, even if they're not the ones he expected.  
  
The fire shifts restlessly in Lio's downcast gaze. His tone is quiet again, private. "Do you understand now? Can you hear it?"

Galo leans his head back and closes his eyes like he's tuning into a radio frequency. "It wants to burn. I've always felt my soul burning. But not like this."  
  
"You want to know the truth," Lio prompts further, inching closer. "About what."

"I thought you'd be more...different." Galo shifts uncomfortably. "You're just like - "

"Just human, right." Lio looks like he's biting back a sneer. "Tell your Freeze Force that, your Governor Foresight."

Galo wants to argue with Lio's wording, but he bites his tongue.

"Why do you think Thyma was in the shape she was in?" Lio asks.

Galo thinks about it. "Did they rough her up before you found her? Vulcan's a brutish pig, I wouldn't be surprised - "

Lio cuts him off. "Your _Governor_ experimented on her. Forced her flames to flare until she almost burned to ashes. _That's_ who you stood for, Galo."

The conviction in Lio's eyes is absolute, devastating. A tiny spark in Galo still wants to fight back, but he remembers Kray's blank stare, his lack of hesitation.

"He was my hero," Galo admits.

Lio nods, his mouth a rigid line. "And he exiled you."

"I _ran_ from him," Galo corrects.  
  
Lio stands to feed the fire, and Galo watches it yield to him, take his strength.

"Forgive my bluntness," Lio says. "You're one of us, and for that, I'd never turn you away. But I hope you can make something of your wretched ambitions now. There's better uses for a soul that burns like yours."

The hard set of Lio's slim shoulders is the only clue to how long he's been leading; certainly long enough to have already set his ideals into stone. Galo's ideals, meanwhile, are crumbling away to dust.

Maybe there's something to be salvaged from the rubble.

"People are just afraid," Galo says. "We could just...stop burning. Show them we're not so different."

Lio sighs. "This is all going to take time to sink in. But we'll only stop burning once the whole world is in flames."

Galo meets his gaze, daring a glint of mischief. "If that happens, I'll just put it out!" He hopes his smile is bright enough to be convincing.

Lio chuckles, a little coldly. "You're not the sharpest guy I've ever taken under my wing," he says, leaning closer to Galo than ever, head almost touching his chest. "But you might be of some use."  
  
The fire roars and sputters. Galo is the only one who flinches. This is what it means to trust the flames, to trust Lio.

"Very humanitarian," Galo quips.

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

The truck is crowded, loud despite the group's shared, afflicted silence. For the first time since Galo met him, Lio is sleeping - albeit only in short bursts before he looks around, makes quick check-ins. Then he returns to a lone corner, curling in on himself, head lolling to the side.  
  
It's heartbreaking, seeing the smoothed lines of Lio's sleeping face. Galo wonders what he'd be doing if this wasn't the life he'd chosen, the life he'd been thrust into. Wonders if he'd be happy, if he'd be the same man.  
  
"Hey." Thyma shuffles in a half-crawl to sit beside him. She's getting around better, and she sounds good, but she's still a bit weak. Galo holds a hand out to steady her, if she needs it. "I remember you."

Galo blinks at her. "What?"

"You…" She looks lost, and Galo wishes he knew what to rescue her from. "You already saved me once. And I…"

Recognition flashes in him, and Galo's eyes widen. "Oh. Right."

Thyma reaches toward his arm, then falters. "I'm so sorry, I was so scared…"

Galo shakes his head, smiling. "I'm just happy you're okay. No need to be sorry, it's all part of the job! Er, it _was_ …" 

The truck hits a bump; Thyma lets out a tiny, pained whimper, almost losing her balance. Galo's quick to react, hands falling loosely on her shoulders, keeping her steady. She flashes a bright, yet embarrassed smile at him.  
  
"It's been a crazy few days," she tells him.

"That, it has," Galo answers. He bets they can all agree. "I'll tell you a secret."

"What's that?" Thyma asks.

Lio's eyes flutter open, awareness steeling their soft glow, sharpening his defenses. He must be exhausted, though, because they fall shut just as quickly.

"I'm scared too," Galo tells her.

▼◊▼◊▼◊▼

There are peaceful days, after that. Lio teaches Galo practical uses for his flames: cooking, conjuring, magic tricks for the children.

(Galo's not so good at that last part, but he makes a good addition to Lio's audience.)

Some days, he catches Gueira and Meis pretending to keep up watchdog duty on him, before falling back into comfortable joking when they think he's not looking. They're not too bad, Galo's found, even when they try to convince him otherwise.

There are a few calm months, a routine of foraging, scouting. Galo never returns to the city, but Lio and his generals prowl the outskirts occasionally. Sometimes they come back with new Burnish, and Galo is the first to look them over, patch them up where it's needed, talk them through the confusion.

Lio is always quietest at the end of those days, hands brushing Galo's, unleashing smiles he'd normally hold back. Eventually, when he wakes in the morning, his eyes are peaceful for a few minutes, wondering. They inevitably slip on their armor, tuck themselves behind the walls that a feared leader needs to survive. Galo still counts it as a win.

In the dead of night, while he thinks Galo is asleep, Lio kindles all of his worries, his deepest scars. Galo holds all of them close, replacing the void of history he's lost. The future is still a terrifying rift, so much still unknown, unchangeable. Yet Lio makes parts of it feel certain, worth fighting for.  
  
▼◊▼◊▼◊▼  
  
It's not just Galo's soul burning, not just the souls of the Burnish. The planet burns too, hotter than he could ever match to put out on his own. 

The Second World Blaze comes without much warning except for the colossal, ship-like mass rising from the city. It's painless, swift, all-consuming.

Just an ear-splitting crack in the earth, a white-hot bolt from the core. Blackness.

Erasure.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Lyrancon/@MoltenRainbow for discussing this concept with me ad nauseum!
> 
> Talk to me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/jadebrace1) , these boys are 85% of my thoughts.
> 
> [title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a4Wz3HwNOd4)


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